Forsaken Destiny
by Madame Wilhelmina
Summary: When the child of the prophecy is forsaken he retaliates in the most unforgivable way imaginable. Another wrong boy who lived story. dark but not evil Harry. NOT SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** It's not, nor will it ever be mine.

For anyone who has read this story before, and is confused about all of the changes, I'd like to take a moment to explain myself. Though I foresee this story going in a very similar direction as the original one, there will be heavy changes. I felt that it was necessary. The old version was filled with typos as well as continuity errors. There was very little in terms of description as well. I'm still trying to get this right, so be patient. I haven't given up on this story yet.

* * *

_**Forsaken Destiny**_

_They called him, the 'Boy Who Lived.' The legendary hero who once vanquished Voldemort when he was only one year old. The young man expected to being peace to the Wizarding World, that is, if Voldemort should dare to make a second return. Everyone's favorite little hero._

_Well, not everybody. For you see, little Michael had many enemies. Not everyone was very fond of the little boy wonder who had "supposedly" saved the Wizarding community from the most evil Dark Lord they had seen in years, perhaps even worse than Grindelwald. Many held him in very low esteem, among them some of the most bloodthirsty of the Dark Lord's followers. If they were to get their hands on him even for just an instant, alone, without anyone to stop them, who knows what would become of the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' Michael Potter?_

_Fortunately for Michael, he was able to remain safe for many years. While his parents delightfully coddled him and catered to his every whim, he grew up in relative harmony, never worrying about what could happen if the Dark Lord were to return. Very few believed he would. Even if he did, wouldn't Michael be able to fend him off himself? If not him, then perhaps the wise old Wizard, Albus Dumbledore?_

_Many witches and wizards have faced off against Voldemort over the years and very few have come away with their lives intact. There was one wizard, who is particularly noteworthy of having defied Voldemort numerous times. A wizard who bore a striking resemblance to Michael Potter. A wizard...of remarkable talent and very questionable virtue. His name, was Harry James Potter, the twin brother of Michael Potter. It is with him that our story begins. _

_It is a long, tedious tale, one that takes place over the course of many years. I am well-acquainted with how it goes by now, but forgive me if I leave out any important details, for it has been many years. If you're willing to listen, I'm willing to share. _

* * *

"Michael, Harry," Lily's voice carried up the stairs, breaking the silence of the early morning. "It's time to get up. You both don't want to be late for your first day of Hogwarts."

Harry groaned. _'What does it matter,'_ he thought bitterly. Stealing a quick glance at his alarm clock, he nearly scoffed. "Of course," he said aloud to the empty room, "Seven-thirty in the morning. Over three hours to spare and she's waking us up now." He slid out of bed, wincing as his bare feet touched the floor.

"I n-need motivation," he muttered sleepily to himself as he reached for his glasses, stifling a yawn as he did so. "I haven't nearly packed everything that I will need for Hogwarts." He headed out of the room a minute later, rubbing sleepily at his eyes as he did so.

On the way to the bathroom, Harry collided with his brother Michael. His glasses flew off his face and as Harry made a grab at them, he tripped. A minute later, he found himself lying on the floor.

"Sorry," Michael said carelessly, but he did not look very sorry to Harry. He continued on his way to the bathroom, not even bothering to help his brother up or ask if he was all right. He shut the door behind himself and started up the shower.

Harry sighed heavily. '_I guess I'm going to have to wait for him to get out before I can use it,'_ he thought bitterly. He then reached over and picked up his glasses. "They didn't break. I must be lucky."

While waiting for his brother to finish in the shower, Harry headed back to his room. He figured that now that he was more awake he might as well finish packing his school trunk. Being late might become a real threat if he had trouble finding anything he needed for school.

Harry entered his room and closed the door behind himself. Turning the lock, he then headed over to a corner of the room where he had placed his trunk the night before. Privacy was something that Harry valued very greatly. Fortunately and unfortunately it was something he received a lot of.

As Harry packed he let his mind wander. He should be eager to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After all, it was the best magical school in Europe. It supposedly had the best, most qualified teachers and the best classes, ranging from Charms, to Potions, to Transfiguration. Yet, Harry wasn't all that excited to go. He supposed that he should be but it was hard. All of his life he had been overshadowed by his twin brother Michael. People were always so excited to meet the great Michael Potter, the Boy Who Lived. They could care less for his insignificant twin brother. Harry figured that being at Hogwarts would make no difference.

He finished packing just in time to hear the shower water turn off. '_Good,' _he thought to himself as he placed a pair of folded up robes at the top of the trunk and closed it. '_Now I can take a shower.'_

He headed towards the bathroom with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He laid them carefully down on the edge of the sink, taking care to make sure that they wouldn't get wet. He then pulled off his boxers and t-shirt and stepped into the shower. Turning the faucet on resulted in a huge gust of icy cold water pouring out at him. He jumped back, momentarily startled before gritting his teeth in frustration and leaning forward to adjust the temperature.

"I'm awake now at least," he muttered, as the water heated up.

Harry finished up his shower and got out. He picked up his clothes and put them on. Then he gazed at his reflection.

Harry scowled at himself in the mirror. He hated his reflection with a burning passion, and no matter how many times he heard his mother absentmindedly reply that he was nice looking, he would never buy it. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, trying to flatten it but to no avail. The hair was wet and it still wouldn't lie flat. His hair was too messy, his skin too pale and his features too slim. He grumbled and excited the room. Once he was out of the bathroom, he could hear his parents laughing and joking downstairs. Music was blaring from the Wizarding Wireless. It did nothing but further his already agitated state of mind.

Heading downstairs, he turned in the direction of his parents. At his entrance his mother glanced up and smiled at him. "Good morning, Harry," she told him from her place at the table. "Is your brother up yet?"

"Yes," Harry replied solemnly. He stalked over to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of homemade orange juice. He poured some in a glass and downed it in one gulp before proceeding to take out eggs and bacon from the fridge and bread from the bread basket. He started to fix himself breakfast while listening to his parents discuss the goings on at the Ministry.

"I'm telling you Lily dear, it's a sad day for the Ministry of Magic when the Minister of Magic himself is begging Dumbledore for advice. He should be able to handle Wizarding Britain on his own," James commented as he drank his coffee.

Lily nodded her head in agreement. "Well, everyone knows that after Millicent Bagnold retired that Dumbledore was the perfect man for the job."

"Nonsense," James replied, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Dumbledore belongs at Hogwarts, everyone knows that."

Harry rolled his eyes at them as he continued cooking his breakfast. '_Of course,'_ he thought to himself. '_Dumbledore would make the perfect headmaster being the supposedly powerful, wise, old wizard that he is.'_

As Harry carried his plate over to the table he couldn't help but agree. Dumbledore was wiser than most; maybe it was his years of experience that made him so wise, maybe he had always been that way, but sometimes Harry couldn't help but feel as though the old wizard knew more than he should. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Are you excited about Hogwarts, dear?" Lily asked Harry, smiling at him.

Harry blinked. "I guess," he said hesitantly.

"Have you finished packing?" James asked him. Before Harry could respond, Michael chose that moment to enter the kitchen. Lily took one look at him and burst into tears.

"Ohhhh... James, I can't believe it. Our little boy is finally going to Hogwarts!" she cried as she threw herself onto her son and pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, Mum get off!" Michael cried as he struggled against her.

James laughed. "Lily, give the boy a little breathing room, he doesn't need to be mollycoddled."

Lily nodded and pulled herself away from her son. She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed at her green eyes with it. "Being silly," she mumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes at his mother's foolish antics and finished eating. He quickly cleaned up and headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Idiocy," he mumbled to himself as he reached his room. He sauntered over to his bed and threw himself face down on it. He let out a deep sigh as he rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

_'Of course she couldn't be bothered to cry when she saw me,'_ he thought sourly to himself. He quickly pushed the thought out of his head. '_Stop it,'_ he scolded himself. 'Y_ou're not going to think about that now. You should be happy right now. Today is just as much your day as it is his.'_

With that thought in mind, Harry got up off his bed and grabbed his trunk. '_Might as well bring it down to the entrance hall,'_ he thought as he dragged the trunk towards the door.

**

* * *

  
**

"Oh Michael!" Lily cried as she pulled her son in for another hug. "You will write to me as soon as you're settled in, right?"

Michael mumbled something inarticulate as his mother pulled him even closer to her.

"Oh, come on now Lily, what did I tell you this morning? Leave the boy alone," Harry heard his father say as he walked away, dragging his trunk behind him. He wasn't even going to bother saying goodbye to his parents. It wasn't like they were interested in him anyways. Climbing onto the train, he struggled to pull his trunk up after him, gripping tightly at the side handle. A hand reached out and grabbed the other end, helping to lift the trunk onto the train.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully as he glanced at his helper. His father's face peered back at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Harry stared blankly at him, not saying anything. "Do you need help getting it to your compartment?" James asked him, reaching for the trunk's handle.

Harry shook his head. "I can handle it myself."

"Have a good year at Hogwarts, Harry," his father said uncomfortably.

Harry stole a quick glance over at his brother, who was still being hugged and kissed by their teary mother and then back at his father, his green eyes hard. "I intend to." With that said, Harry turned and walked away, dragging his trunk after him. Heading into the nearest compartment, he pulled his trunk in. Closing the door after himself, he leaned up against the doorframe, closing his eyes.

"Tired?" Harry's eyes flew open. He was surprised to find that someone was already sitting in the compartment. "Sorry," he mumbled. He turned around and was just starting to head out of the compartment when he heard the boy call out to him.

"Wait!"

He turned around and stared at him. The young man had gotten cautiously out of his seat and was heading towards him. "You can stay here," he said to Harry. "Here, let me help you with that."

The boy grabbed one end of his trunk and helped him lift it up. Once it was stashed away in the luggage rack the boy took his seat again. Harry took a seat across from him. He looked at the boy curiously if not a little cautiously. It was not every day that someone actually took the time to pay this much attention to him let alone be nice to him.

The boy sitting across from him had orange-red hair, blue eyes, and a face full of freckles. He was also thin and quite tall for his age, something Harry could see even with the boy siting down. He opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. The boy decided to break the awkward silence by speaking first.

"I'm Ronald Weasley, but no one ever calls me that, so Ron will do alright." He extended his hand towards Harry. Harry took it, feeling just as awkward as ever. "Harry Potter," he answered quietly, feeing somewhat nervous.

Ron's eyes widened considerably. "Really, you're a Potter?" he asked incredulously, his eyes scanning Harry's face more intently. "Tell me, are you related to Michael Potter?"

"Yes, I am his brother," Harry said. He no longer felt nervous, as annoyance sparked up within him. '_Here's where he asks me about a thousand questions about my brother and gets disappointed when I can't answer them all,'_ he thought sourly.

Ron stared at him. "I didn't know Michael Potter had a brother," he commented.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling his annoyance rise. "We are twins." '_Any moment now...'_

Ron laughed, nodding his head in understanding "I have two older brothers who are twins," he informed Harry. "They are both great gits is what they are...not that I'm saying that you are one," he continued quickly after seeing the look on Harry's face. "I'm just saying that brothers aren't all that they are cracked up to be."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "That's true," he replied. "I suppose you must have it worse than me," he continued, staring intently at Ron as he spoke. "I mean, I have just one brother. I can't imagine having two of them."

"Five," Ron answered sourly. "Not kidding," he added, seeing the incredulous look on Harry's face. "My oldest brothers Bill and Charlie have already finished school. Charlie is in Romania studying dragons, and Bill works for Gringotts. He's currently in Egypt. But the twins and Percy are still here. Percy is starting his fifth year and the twins their third."

"Wow," Harry commented. "You must really have it bad. I definitely would not be able to handle having that many brothers." Inwardly, he couldn't help but feel pleased. Here was someone who, for once, knew exactly how he felt.

"I have a sister too," Ron continued. "But she's not starting until next year." He sighed bitterly. "Percy is a Prefect this year, as was Bill when he was here. Bill even managed to make Head Boy in his seventh year. Charlie was Quidditch Captain, and the twins...well everyone knows and likes the twins. Hogwarts own tricksters."

Harry nodded sympathetically. He was used to being overshadowed by his brother and could therefore understand Ron's plight. "I know," he responded. "I get that with my brother all the time. The Great Boy Who Lived – Michael Potter, who wouldn't love him? It's like he's Merlin or something the way people treat him..." It was now Harry's turn to sigh bitterly. He leaned back in his seat and stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought.

"We don't have to continue living in their shadow, you know," Ron said suddenly.

Harry turned to face him, a questioning look in his eyes.

"No really," Ron continued earnestly, his blue eyes wide. "We don't. We can be different from them. We can be better."

"How are we supposed to pull that off?" Harry asked, his curiosity roused.

"Well..." Ron answered slowly, appearing to deliberate the point. "For starters, who says we have to be like them? Who says that we have to be in Gryffindor?"

Harry stared at him blankly now, looking both incredulous and yet intrigued. "Go on..." he said.

Looking pleased at having caught Harry's attention, Ron continued in a low tone. "What if we weren't what they expected? What if we were darker? What if instead of being in Gryffindor we were in Slytherin."

Before Harry could answer, the compartment door flew open. A girl with bushy brown hair and buck teeth entered, her hand clutching the handle of a trunk. She dragged it in quickly, closing the door behind her. She was around their age from the looks of it and was already wearing her Hogwarts robes. "Oh, I'm sorry," she told them as she caught sight of Harry and Ron, her eyes wide. "I didn't know that anyone was in here."

Curious, Harry studied her carefully Her hair was hanging in her face, covering most of it from view. He thought he caught sight of tears in her eyes, but couldn't be sure.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked her.

"I..." she paused, looking embarrassed. "You should be wearing your robes, you know," she told him, pointing at his Muggle clothes.

Ron scoffed. "I'll get changed when we get to the school. Who asked you anyway?"

"No one," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but I need a place to stay. The other compartments are full."

"So you waited this long to find one?" Ron asked her.

The girl blushed. "No," she replied angrily. "Mine was taken by several older students."

Ron nodded his understanding. "Sounds like something my brothers would do," he said. "But you can't..." he trailed off then. Looking at Harry, he leaned in and started whispering. "Should she join in too?"

Harry shrugged. "If she wants to," he whispered back.

Hermione glared at them. "What are you both taking about?" she asked them angrily. "It isn't polite to talk about people behind their backs."

"Well," Ron answered. "We were just thinking, what house were you planning on getting sorted into?"

"I wasn't," Hermione told him. "I'm a Muggleborn you see?" She looked confused. "Why?"

Ron was smiling as he turned to face Harry. "No real important reason," he replied happily. At Harry's shrug, he turned back to face her. "We were just wondering, since we both know where we want to get sorted, what you would think about getting sorted there as well?"

_Clever, aren't they? They thought they had it all planned out, the three of them. Getting sorted into Slytherin, making their own path in life. You just know that somehow, something is going to go wrong. _

* * *

As the boats carrying the first years came to a stop in front of the school, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves staring in awe at their surroundings. It was far more magnificent than any of them had imagined it would be. The castle walls loomed hundreds of feet above them, high towers partially obscured by a light mist rising in the air. The front doors swung open at Hagrid's knocking and the students filed out of their boats at once, following him into the school. The trio of friends followed as well, their heads turning every which way, trying to capture as much of their surroundings as possible.

The air was thick with tension as the students gathered in the vast entrance hall, waiting for further instructions. All around Harry, Ron, and Hermione were excited, anxious looking faces. Harry was feeling excited as well, but he was also a little anxious. Leaning in towards Ron, he whispered quietly to him, "How do you suppose they are going to sort us all?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know," he answered just as quietly. "The twins refused to say. They did tell me that it was some sort of test and that it hurts a lot, but they were lying. I can always tell when the twins are lying." He scowled. "Although, I do imagine we would need to be put through some kind of test. I..."

"It's not a test," a boy to their right spoke up. He had white-blond hair, gray eyes, and a pale pointed face. He was staring at the two with a look of half-interest, half-boredom on his face. "They make you try on a stupid hat is all." The boy scowled. "Moronic idea, if you ask me. "I don't fancy the idea of having to try on a hat in front of a room full of people and then let it go through my head."

Harry had to agree. "Yeah, I suppose that would be kind of creepy," he said grinning.

The boy smiled. It was more of a half smile than anything else, but it was at least something. "Draco Malfoy," he said, extending his hand out towards Harry. Harry, feeling that he might as well make a good impression, held out his hand towards the boy as well.

"Harry Potter."

Draco's eyes widened considerably as he shook Harry's hand. "Harry Potter," he repeated. "Are you related to the Boy-Who-Lived, Michael Potter?"

Harry's eyes flared with anger. "Yes, I am," Harry replied hotly. "...but if you are only interested in talking about him, then why don't you go join his little fan club." He motioned towards a large gaggle of kids who were swarming around Michael, all trying to get a good look at his scar.

Draco's eyebrows rose up a bit. He glanced at Michael and his fans, then back at Harry himself. A smirk flitted across his pointed face. "It sounds like you are a bit jealous to me, Potter." he told Harry in a low voice.

"What would you know about it?" Harry told him, glaring. "You don't know anything."

"Really?" Draco Malfoy replied, sneering. "Then why are you getting so defensive about the subject?"

Hermione looked confused. Ron, however, was starting to look annoyed. "Listen Malfoy..." he snarled, stepping forward. He was cut off when a Professor entered the hall. She was a tall witch with black hair tied back in an elegant bun, with glasses perched at the tip of her nose, wearing emerald green robes. She spoke briefly to the students about all four of the houses, before leading them into the hall.

The trio could barely keep themselves from gasping when they saw the inside of the Great Hall. It was a startling sight for them, one beyond what their wildest imagination could create. Four long tables, one for each of the houses was situated inside the room, as well as a long table raised up on a platform for the teachers at the other end of the room. Floating candles were above every table, which were laden with golden goblets and plates.

The most elaborate part of the décor, however, was not the tables themselves; nor was it the banners representing the four houses. The most breathtaking sight of all was the ceiling high above their heads, which reflected the sky outside. It was currently filled with millions of stars, all twinkling in the night.

"Wow," Hermione breathed as she glanced upwards. "You know," she said, turning to look at Harry and Ron. "I read in _Hogwarts a History_ that it was bewitched to look like the sky outside. Something that Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw worked up on a whim."

"Clever," Ron replied. Before he could say anything else, the professor who had introduced herself before as Professor McGonagall came into the hall. She was holding a three legged stool in one hand and a hat in the other. She walked to the front of the room and placed the stool down in front of the teacher's table, before placing the hat on it. The hat began to sing.

(You all know the song from the first book, so I'm going to skip it, if that's alright with you)

After the hat finished singing, the hall burst into applause. Then Professor McGonagall pulled a rolled up scroll out of her robes, and unrolling it, began calling up the students one at a time to be sorted.

When Hermione's turn came she could barely restrain herself from running to the hat. She took a deep breath and then calmly walked up to the stool, and sitting down, placed the hat on her head.

_'Hmm,'_ said a little voice in her ear. _'A brilliant mind, I must say. You are very bright, as well as both clever and ambitious. You set your goals high and are prepared to do what it takes to reach them.'_

_'Of course,' _Hermione responded. _'That's why I'd be perfect for Slytherin.'_

_'For Slytherin, do you think? I can't say that I'm too sure. You are a Muggleborn, are you not? I think that given the circumstances, Ravenclaw would suit you more.'_

_'No!'_ Hermione thought desperately. _'I need to be in Slytherin!'_

_'I see,'_ said the Sorting Hat thoughtfully. _'Well...' _it continued. _'I certainly try to do what is best for the students. It's not as though you would make a particularly bad Slytherin. All right then, good luck, in...'_ "SLYTHERIN!"

The hat shouted the last part to the hall. Hermione walked over to her house table and sat down. Though she was elated to have been sorted there like she'd wanted, she couldn't help but feel worried. Ron had told her that Slytherin house held very few students who were Muggleborns. Her housemates had applauded for her when she had gotten sorted, but the question is would they have done it had they known that she was a Muggleborn? A fact that they would soon learn. It would remain to be seen how well they would deal with having a Muggleborn in their house.

Hermione turned and watched as the rest of the students were sorted. She was only mildly interested in the proceedings and thus only half listened until she heard McGonagall call out,

"MALFOY, DRACO!"

She watched as Draco Malfoy strutted up to the stool and sat down, placing the hat on his head. She had heard all about the Malfoy's from Ron, and nothing she had heard sounded good. Apparently, the Malfoy's, like the Potter's and the Weasley's, were an old Wizarding family. They however, unlike the Potter's and the Weasley's, had a somewhat darker history. _'The whole lot of them were in Slytherin,'_ Ron had added distastefully earlier that evening just before Hermione had gotten sorted. _'So don't be surprised if we get stuck being housemates with Malfoy.'_

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was sitting on the stool waiting to be sorted when he heard a small voice speak up in his ear. _'Hmm, now you ARE a bit tricky.'_

_'Come on,' _Hermione thought as she waited._ 'Why is the Sorting Hat taking so long? Harry's turn is coming up.' _

"RAVENCLAW!"

The hat shouted the last word to the hall. Draco quickly snatched it off his head and headed over to his house table. Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought that he seemed even paler than earlier. Scowling, he took his seat at the table, ignoring the dirty looks he was receiving from the Slytherin's at the neighboring table.

Meanwhile across the hall, Ron and Harry were speaking in hushed tones, their heads close together. They had both looked incredulous at hearing that Malfoy was not a Slytherin like they thought he would be.

"Well," Ron said, staring at Malfoy's pale head. "It looks like we won't be housemates with him after all."

Harry nodded. He was beginning to feel a little nervous now that his name was close to being called. He was from a purely Gryffindor family like Ron. What if the hat put him in Gryffindor like the rest of his family? That would surely ruin all of the plans that he and Ron and Hermione had made.

_'Stop it. You are being foolish,' _he told himself. '_The Sorting Hat put Hermione in Slytherin and she's a Muggleborn. They almost never get sorted into Slytherin.'_ He calmed down somewhat at this thought, just in time to hear his name being called. He walked forward with his head held high, his heart beating madly in his chest. He sat down on the stool and placed the hat on his head.

_'Hmm,'_ said a little voice inside his head. _'Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see, and not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself. That is interesting You are rather ambitious, aren't you?_ _I know just where to put you.' _

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry was just about to get off the stool when he heard the voice speak again. _'Oh, and Mr. Potter, do be careful. You are far too much like Mr. Riddle when he was here and history does tend to repeat itself.'_

Harry nodded, even though he wasn't sure what he was nodding to. He took off the hat and placed it on the stool. Then he went over to his house table and sat down next to Hermione. She beamed at him before turning back to watch the sorting.

"You got sorted into Slytherin too," she said happily as they watched Harry's brother go up. "Now all we have to do is wait for Ron."

Harry nodded, but he was hardly listening. He kept thinking about what the hat had said to him. '_What did the hat mean? Who was Riddle?'_

He was broken out of his musings as the hat shouted out Gryffindor to the entire hall. The Gryffindor housetable, as well as the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ones all burst into applause as his brother sat down. Harry felt a rush of resentment towards his brother at that moment.

_'It's not_ _like he really is that big_ _a hero or something. He survived the killing curse_ _when he was one, __big deal._ _I've got a scar too and you don't see_ _people gawking at me, do you?' _he thought angrily to himself.

In all truthfulness, people did tend to gawk at Harry when seeing his scar before discovering that he was not the Boy-Who-Lived, but his twin brother, a fact that irritated Harry to no end. Harry wanted people to notice him for him, not for his obnoxious twin.

"Look it's Ron's turn," Hermione whispered from beside him. He tore his eyes away from his brother and turned to watch Ron as he walked up to the stool and sat down with the Sorting Hat on his head.

_'Well,' _the hat said, sounding genuinely surprised. _'I had thought when I heard that I was going to be sorting another Weasley that I would be putting you in Gryffindor, but it looks like you are more like your brother Percy than anything else.'_

_'Percy is a Gryffindor,' _Ron said, sounding surprised.

_'By choice,'_ the hat replied. _'I felt that with such an ambitious mind as his that he would have made an excellent Slytherin. Being a Weasley, however, he insisted upon being in Gryffindor like the rest of the family.'_

_'That's exactly where I want you to put me though,'_ Ron replied. '_In Slytherin.'_

_'Well, you certainly are different then the rest of your family. All right, good luck in...'_. "SLYTHERIN!"

As Ron got off the stool and headed over to his house table, he thought about what the hat had said about Percy. _'It makes sense,' _he thought to himself. _'Percy always was an ambitious one...' _He was so caught up in his musings that he failed to notice the looks of curiosity he was receiving from the other students, or the look of contempt that his twin brothers sent his way.

_All in all, it was an interesting night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The night that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley got sorted into Slytherin. Also known as, the night that started it all..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Forsaken Destiny**_

_The three may have been already sorted, but their trouble's involving their sorting were far from over. One would think that Ron and Harry's families would be considerate of their sons feelings and respect the house that they were in. Unfortunately, house prejudice has a way of setting in and blocking out any positive feelings or familial love that may exist. _

"SLYTHERIN!" Ron heard someone cry out from behind him. He whirled around only to come face to face with Fred and George. "Slytherin," Fred repeated, sounding incredulous. "How? You're a Weasley for Merlin's sake! Weasley's never get sorted there."

Ron gazed at his two brothers, feeling uncomfortable. He had known that the twins wouldn't be pleased but he had not counted on them being this mad. However, he didn't let his discomfort show outwardly. Instead he looked Fred dead in the eye and smirked.

"Yes, Fred that's right, Sly-the-rin," he drew out the last word hoping to anger the twins. He was not disappointed.

"How could you!" George cried out, looking very red in the face. "You know that Slytherin is the house of dark witches and wizards!"

Ron fought back the urge to laugh. His nervousness had left him, and he was feeing quite giddy as he replied. "Of course! Now, if you'll excuse me I really must go. Harry and I are going to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library and steal books on the Dark Arts." He forced back a smile at the look on his brothers' faces when he said that. '_They both look horrified,'_ he thought happily._ 'This is priceless.' _

"Harry?" George repeated, staring blankly at him. "Isn't he the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, Michael Potter?"

"How good of you to know his name," Ron said coldly, his blue eyes narrowing as he spoke. "I would have thought that in your excitement to meet the Boy Who Lived, you would have overlooked the fact that he has a brother like everyone else does."

George opened his mouth to respond when Fred cut in. "Wait! George, I just remembered something! Isn't Harry Potter a Slytherin as well?"

A look of realization dawned on George's face at Fred's remark. "You're right, Fred. He is a Slytherin!" he exclaimed, turning to his twin. "I remember it from the Sorting." They both turned to look back at Ron just then, their faces grave. "What did he say to you Ron to get you to go to Slytherin?"

"Nothing!" Ron protested, no longer feeling pleased. '_Really this is getting ridiculous!' _he thought furiously. _'For Merlin's sake, it wasn't even Harry's idea to get sorted into Slytherin in the first place!' _Suddenly the words Ron had spoken to Harry on the train came rushing back to him.

_'We don't have to keep living in their shadow you know. We can be different from them. We can be better.'_

_'That's right,'_ Ron reminded himself. '_We don't have to be them. We can be better.'_ He took a deep breath, calming himself, and said:

"Harry had nothing to do with me getting sorted into Slytherin. Getting sorted into Slytherin was my idea, not Harry's."

"Why?" Fred asked, looking puzzled.

"Because I am not the two of you and I am not Mum and Dad," Ron told him. "I'm not like the rest of the family. The Sorting Hat could see that and that is why it placed me in Slytherin. Now, if you will excuse me..." Ron added, glaring at them both. "...I have to get to my common room. Thanks to you two I now have to find it on my own." He turned around and headed off in the direction he had seen the other Slytherins disappear earlier.

"It's in the dungeons!" he heard one of his brothers call after him. "That's where the Slytherins are kept. That's where you belong! In the dungeons with the rest of the filthy snakes!"

Ron continued walking as though he hadn't heard them, though he felt his heart sink at that moment.

* * *

"This room is great," Ron said when he saw the size of the room and beds. He had somehow managed to catch up to the Slytherins as they were heading back to their common room. He felt lucky that he had; the Slytherin common room was very cleverly hidden.

Harry had to agree with him. Their bedroom was decorated in green and silver, with five four poster beds situated against the walls. Silver hangings hung from the beds, which were covered in green pillows and sheets. Five trunks were stationed at the end of each bed, one for each of the boys staying in the room.

Two other large boys had already found their beds and were getting ready to go to sleep. Harry and Ron found their beds right next to each others. "I thought I'd go spare at the thought of sharing a room with someone again," Ron told Harry as they headed back down to the common room. "But it's worth it. That room is much larger than my room at the Burrow."

They settled into the two chairs they could find unoccupied that were nearest the fire and started up a game of Wizards Chess. They were halfway through the game and Ron had already confiscated most of Harry's chess pieces when they noticed a very pale boy around their own age standing a few feet away, watching them.

"Oh hello," Harry said after a moment's hesitation. The boy didn't answer. He gazed at Harry for a second, then at Ron for another. His expression was blank.

Harry opened his mouth, about to say something else when the boy spoke up. Shifting his dark hair out of his eyes, he said one word: "Theo."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?" he questioned.

The pale boy rolled his eyes. "It's Theo," he responded, sounding slightly resentful. "My name is Theodore Nott."

Harry nodded. He remembered hearing Theodore's name being called not long before his own. "I'm Harry Potter," he said, extending his hand out towards the boy. "This is Ronald Weasley," he added, gesturing towards Ron. Ron nodded to Theodore, looking slightly annoyed at having the chess game disrupted.

"You can join us if you'd like," Harry continued. "I'm going to lose the game anyways. Maybe you will have better luck?"

Theo shrugged. He waited until Harry and Ron were done playing, which didn't take long, and then sat across from Ron where Harry was sitting a moment before.

Ron was surprised. Theo was actually a very good chess player and was excellent with strategy. Ron won the game in the end, but was still pleased by how much of a challenge it was for him. With his brothers he had never been faced with much challenge. Only his sister Ginny had been nearly up to his skill and even she lost to him in the end.

"Well," Ron said pleasantly as he stood up to head back to their dormitory. "I must say, you're much better than I imagined you would be. You're certainly better than him," he finished, jerking his thumb in Harry's direction.

"Hey!" Harry protested, but he was laughing.

Theo shrugged at him. "I like chess."

"We should have a rematch sometime," Ron told him as they headed up to bed.

Another shrug. "I guess."

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She was too worried about what the next day might bring. She was glad that she had made friends on the train but she couldn't help but worry about what Ron had told her. Slytherins hate Muggleborns. What if her dormmates didn't like her?

"No, I know they don't like me," she whispered quietly to herself as she lay awake. "That Parkinson girl and her friend Greengrass both made no effort to hide their dislike when coming in here tonight." She looked miserable at the thought. _'That Tracy Davis girl was decent, she even said hello to me,' _Hermione thought. _'Maybe she and I can become friends?' _She felt disbelief rise within her as soon as the idea crossed her mind._ 'If not, I at least have Harry and Ron. It won't be so bad.' _With that comforting thought in mind, she rolled over onto her side and fell asleep.

At any rate, Hermione figured that their dislike would lesson eventually. They were her roommates after all and no one wanted to remain on bad terms with their roommates for seven years.

**

* * *

  
**

Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall the next morning bright and early, feeling both excited and anxious. Settling down at their house table, they started to fill their plates as they waited for Hermione to show up. A few minutes later she arrived, looking somewhat upset. At Harry's questioning look, she shook her head. _'Not important,' _she mouthed.

Before Harry could question further, the owl post arrived. Ron visibly paled when he saw an owl heading towards them.

"Oh no," he breathed. "That's Errol." Harry looked up just in time to see an old, shabby looking owl swoop down beside them. It placed an envelope in Ron's lap and then collapsed on the table, his wings resting in a bowl of cornflakes.

Ron sighed. "I might as well get it over with," he said miserably. He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment. Turning it over, he read. There was a silence for a moment while he reread what was written. Frowning, he looked up. "I don't get it," he said aloud.

Harry and Hermione both leaned in. Written on the parchment were only two words: _Why Slytherin?_

Bewildered, they both turned to look at Ron.. He shrugged. "I'm not sure I understand her," he said quietly. "Does she mean why did I get sorted into Slytherin? Is she blaming me for it?" he stared back at the letter again, seemingly lost in thought.

"She might," Harry told him. "I'm sure my parents won't be happy when they find out about my sorting. They will probably think I did it out of spite or something." He glanced over at the Gryffindor table as he said this.

"How did she find out so soon though?" Ron said curiously. He then froze. His eyes narrowed as he glanced over at the Gryffindor table. "They are trying to get me in trouble," he said darkly.

The trio of friends weren't the only unhappy people in the Great Hall that morning. Over at the Gryffindor table one of the prefects was glaring his disapproval at his younger brothers. They were both muttering angrily together.

"Now really!" the prefect exclaimed. "Was it necessary to write home to mother about this?"

"Yes Percy it was," one of the twins answered, looking up at him.

"Yeah Percy, I mean surely Mum would want to know that she raised a filthy snake," chimed in the other twin. "I mean you're not siding with him are you?"

" NO!" Percy exclaimed. "I just think that it should have been Ron who told mother that he was sorted into Slytherin, not the two of you."

The twins both ignored him and went back to looking at Ron. They waited until he had looked in their direction and then they both shot him smug looks. He glared at the two of them and turned around in his seat.

"Gits," he muttered darkly to himself. He picked up his fork and went back to eating his breakfast. Harry opened his mouth about to say something when suddenly a letter was dropped unto his lap. He gazed upwards to see Tawny, the Potter family's owl, soaring overhead back in the direction she had come from.

_'What the hell?'_ Harry thought. '_Why would Mum and Dad write to me?' _ He read the letter silently to himself.

_Dear Harry,_

_Your brother Michael wrote to us yesterday to tell us about the sorting. We were most pleased to find out that he had gotten sorted into Gryffindor. This came as no surprise to us as we already knew that he would. What did come as a surprise, a most unpleasant one we might add, is that you weren't as well. _

_We have received confirmation from both your brother and the Headmaster that you were sorted into Slytherin. While we would be more than happy for you to reside in either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, we cannot except any child of ours being sorted into Slytherin. It would not do for a Potter to be in Slytherin. We are a prominent light sided family. It is really selfish of you not to consider this, especially given that your brother is the Boy Who Lived. The poor boy has enough pressure on him without having to deal with explaining to people why his brother is in Slytherin. _

_That settled we have already spoken to your headmaster and he has agreed to let you be resorted. You are to report to his office at eight o'clock this evening. Hopefully you will make us proud and get resorted into Gryffindor like your brother. If not, then both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would do nicely as replacement houses. _

_We wish you the very best of luck for the rest of your school year, in both classes and in making friends. _

_Your loving parents, _

_James & Lily Potter._

_It's amazing how a simple letter could affect anyone so deeply. Yet, as Harry reread the letter over and over again throughout the day, it became obvious just how profoundly it did affect him. It was the start of many incidents throughout his school years that would pull him farther and farther away from his family. _

**

* * *

  
**

Harry paced the corridor in front of Dumbledore's office. He was still unsure as to whether or not to go in. He knew that eventually he would have to but he was trying to delay that time for as long as possible.

Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Now you know thats not going to work. If anything, it's going to make matters worse for your hair," simpered a female voice from a painting near him.

Harry glared at the woman in the painting. "Shut up," he growled. He then whirled around and walked up to the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then said very clearly, "Lemon Drops."

The stone gargoyle jumped aside for him immediately. Harry scowled at it as he stepped onto the moving staircase. He still couldn't get over the fact that he was actually expected to get resorted. '_Well,'_ he thought smugly to himself. '_I'll just have to get resorted into Slytherin, now won't I?'_

Secretly, Harry did worry about whether or not the hat would actually resort him into Slytherin. Maybe the hat will realize that it made a mistake and put him in Gryffindor. Harry hoped not as he didn't want to be near his brother. He wanted to stay in Slytherin. It was where he belonged.

"Ah, Harry, do come in," came the Headmaster's calm voice. Harry entered the room. Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, calmly stroking the head of a magnificent looking bird with red and gold plumage. He smiled at Harry when he entered, his light-blue eyes twinkling merrily. He gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. Harry sat down feeling awkward.

Dumbledore smiled again. "Lemon Drop?" he asked holding out a bowl of candy. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes as he politely refused.

Dumbledore nodded and set the bowl down. He then stood up. "I'm sure you know why you were called down here."

Harry nodded. "My parents wrote to me this morning and told me. Professor Snape also made sure to remind me this evening."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Good," he said. He then walked over to a shelf and pulled down the Sorting Hat. Before Harry could protest he placed it on his head.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up in his head, cutting across his thoughts. _'Harry Potter?_ _I thought I was done with you?'_

_'My family doesn't approve of the house I was sorted into,' _Harry replied. '_So they want me to be resorted.'_

_'Do they? But you're doing so well in Slytherin.'_

_'I know,' _Harry said. '_I think so too.'_

_'Well, I have had several students in the past request being resorted and I have never denied them from that, but I must with you.'_

_'But my parents?'_ Harry countered, though his efforts were half-hearted.

_'Your parents are going to have to learn to accept it. _ _You and I both know better. You were MADE for Slytherin.'_

_'So you're putting me back there?' _ Harry asked. He was trying to sound casual but he was having trouble controlling his excitement.

_'Of course.'_

_'Great,' _Harry said. '_May I ask you something?' _The hat was silent for a moment. Harry taking that as a sign of confirmation continued. '_Who is Mr. Riddle?'_

The hat remained silent for another moment. Just as Harry was beginning to think that the hat wouldn't respond it spoke up.

_'Tom Riddle was a student here fifty years ago. He was in Slytherin as well He was a truly brilliant and magically gifted young man, but he was also a very troubled one. In many ways you remind me of him.'_

Harry wasn't sure what to think of apprehensive, he nodded._ 'Alright then...'_

_'Right then,' _the hat was suddenly cheerful again but a thin layer of unease remained. _'Now that thats __settled I think we both know just where you belong. Do well Mr. Potter and be careful in...SLYTHERIN.'_

The Sorting Hat shouted the last word aloud as it had at the Sorting the day before. Harry took the hat off his head and resisted the urge to laugh when he saw the deeply troubled look on the Headmaster's face. "The hat doesn't want to change my house," he quietly informed the Headmaster. He remained quiet, hoping that Dumbledore was unable to sense the euphoria he felt. Harry smiled sadly at him, pretending, though he was not sure that Dumbledore would really buy it, that he was actually saddened by the whole ordeal.

Dumbledore stared gravely at him. "Harry, what did the Sorting Hat tell you?" he asked quietly, his blue eyes no longer twinkling.

"Nothing special," Harry replied. "It just said that it thought I made a good Slytherin is all. It didn't see any reason to change my house."

"Nothing else?" Dumbledore pressed gently. "Nothing about your brother or your scar?"

"No," Harry asked feeling confused. "Why would it?"

"Just simple curiosity is all," Dumbledore commented. "After all, considering your brother was in Gryffindor, I just thought that the hat would put you two together. Families usually get sorted into the same house as one another"

Harry nodded. "Well then, I understand your confusion perfectly. After all, we are twins. May I go now Headmaster?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, you may. Good night Mr. Potter."

"Good night Headmaster."

As Harry was walking back to his common room later on that night he thought about his discussion with the Headmaster. Exactly why was Professor Dumbledore so alarmed with him being in Slytherin? '_It is only a house for Merlin's sake!' _Harry thought furiously as he walked along._ 'I mean sure my parents aren't going to be pleased but that doesn't mean that Dumbledore needs to get involved.'_

Then it hit Harry at once, stopping him dead in place. '_He doesn't want me in Slytherin either, but it's not because of my parents.'_ Harry was then sure that there was some other more sinister reason for Dumbledore's involvement. _'I wonder,'_ Harry thought curiously, as he started to walk again. '_Does it have anything to do with Tom Riddle?'_

Tom Riddle...

Just then Harry was brought roughly back to earth by a very unwelcome voice.

"Sniff them out my sweets, come on!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks once more. "Filch." He very quietly started to edge away from the direction of Filch's voice. Suddenly he felt something press up against his leg. He looked down in horror to see Filch's cat Mrs. Norris stalking towards him, her yellow eyes glowing in the night.

At the sound of Filch's shuffling feet he turned and ran. He raced down the corridor and around a bend only to end up in unfamiliar territory. Spotting a door out of the corner of his eye, he raced towards it. The door was locked.

He pulled out his wand. "Alohomora." His eyes widened in relief as the door swung open and he hurried inside, shutting the door behind him.

"That was close," Harry breathed. "The old bat almost caught me." He then paused. "Wait a minute! Why am I running? It's Dumbledore's fault that I am out this late." Making up his mind, he reached for the door's handle. Something caught his eye, making him turn.

A massive three-headed dog took up a large portion of the room. It's heads were all staring at Harry, saliva dripping from their jaws.

Harry stared back at the dog for a moment, too shocked to do anything. He then turned and quickly scrambled out of the room. The door banged open as he stormed out, hitting the wall with a loud crash and Harry, no longer caring if Filch caught him or not, tore off down the hall.

Harry was feeling very unsettled as he arrived back at the Slytherin common room half an hour later. On top of his worries about Tom Riddle and Dumbledore, he now had another thing to worry about. He thought that it might have been his eyes playing a trick on him, but he could have sworn that it was not firm ground that the dog was standing on but a trapdoor.

* * *

"A trapdoor!" Hermione exclaimed, looking shocked. "Are you sure?"

It was the following morning and the trio were eating breakfast. Or had been eating breakfast being the more accurate term. Ron and Hermione were currently both starting at Harry in shock, their food left in front of them untouched.

"I'm positive," Harry replied.

"How could you know for sure?" Hermione asked him. "I mean, you were only in there for a moment." Ron nodded looking wary.

"I'm sure."

"Why do you suppose it was there? I mean honestly, who would keep something like that in a school near students?" Ron said.

"Well," Harry began slowly. "I think that the dog was supposed to be there. That it was supposed to be guarding the trapdoor."

"A three headed dog, though!?" Ron exclaimed. "Why not cast Unperturbable charms around the area or something?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. It is odd though that..." he trailed off, rather uncomfortably.

"What is odd?" Hermione asked.

"That...well, that it would just be so easy for me to gain access to that room," Harry finished. "I mean, all it took was a simple unlocking charm and I was in. Besides, you heard the warning that Dumbledore gave at the Start of Term Feast. He said that that particular part of the third floor was off limits to anyone who did not wish to die a painful death. Now why would the Headmaster say that to students? Unless he knows that curiosity will get the better of them and they will head there themselves?"

"You mean to say that the Headmaster intended for a student to go there?" Hermione gasped.

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know Hermione, but it's awfully weird. You know what else is weird?"

"What?" Hermione and Ron both asked together.

Harry held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Gringotts was broken into."

Ron and Hermione each grabbed a side of the paper and read silently together. When they had finished they both looked pale as well as more than a little confused.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't see the connection Mate," Ron said. "I mean, I know that it's freaky...Gringotts is supposed to be safe but..."

"When I was there with my parents we ran into Hagrid. He said he was getting something for Dumbledore. He sounded suspicious."

"What to you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Look, Hagrid is a great guy but he is horrible at being discrete. I could just tell that he was up to something. So..."

"...So you think that whatever Hagrid took from Gringotts was what the thief was looking for, and that Hagrid's brought it here," Hermione finished for him.

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "I mean nothing was even taken from Gringotts. Isn't it a bit weird to you that nothing was taken? I mean come on, who goes through all that trouble to break in to Gringotts and then doesn't take anything?"

"True," Hermione muttered.

"What I don't understand though, is why? Why bring it here in a school full of children?" Harry said. Neither Ron nor Hermione had an answerer to this. As they were considering this a very unexpected voice spoke up:

"I THOUGHT MUM AND DAD TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE TO GET RESORTED!"

Hermione and Ron both whirled around. Harry shook his head a bit to clear it. Turning to face his brother, he gave him a false smile.

"Always the little instigator, aren't you Michael?"

Michael scowled. His resemblance to Harry was uncanny, from the messy dark hair to the bright green eyes. The only difference was in their scars. Harry had a thin lightening bolt shaped scar across his forehead, barely visible beneath his dark hair. Michael's, however, was much longer and more pronounced, trailing down from his forehead to right above his right eye. On either side of him stood a boy, one a tall black boy, the other an Irish-looking boy of average height with sandy-colored hair. Harry recognized the two from the sorting two nights ago as Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"I'm the instigator?" Michael repeated. "Who's the one in Slytherin? Everyone knows that all of the witches and wizards in that house go dark."

"Absolutely," Harry said sarcastically. "We are all so evil and you're just so brave coming over here. Please spare me Michael. Don't you have autographs to be giving out or something?"

Michael sneered. "So thats it," he said. "You're jealous because of my fame? You want to spoil it by being in Slytherin."

"Michael, exactly how could I spoil your fame by being in the snake's house?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, not just MY fame but Mum and Dad's as well; you want to spoil their good reputations by being dark! You want to ruin the Potter's good name!" Michael exclaimed.

"Oh, so now you're concerned about Mum and Dad's reputations are you?" Harry sneered coldly. "Isn't that kind of you!"

Michael opened his mouth to respond but Harry cut him off. "Please Michael, we both know what this is about; this is all about you, not Mum and Dad. You just can't take the fact that I'm not living in your shadow anymore."

Michael seethed. "You know that you will always be in my shadow Harry," he hissed. "Why try to deny it?"

Before Harry could answer Hermione stood up. She had had enough of Michael's pompous remarks. She walked over to him and grabbed him by the front of his robes.

'Now you listen to me Potter!" she snapped. "I have had enough of you bothering Harry! First the letter you sent to your parents to get him in trouble and now you're harassing him in the Great Hall; that's two strikes against you!"

"Who cares what you think?" Michael said, laughing at her. "You haven't a clue. You're just a Muggleborn who had the misfortune of getting sorted into Slytherin. You might as well suck it up, because you're going to be an outcast forever now."

Hermione's furious expression vanished. She stared at Michael for a moment, looking shocked. Then suddenly she stepped back, looking slightly ill.

Michael laughed, "What's wrong, are you scared to hit me?" When Hermione didn't answer he smirked, obviously thinking that he had won. "Come on guys, let's go," he said. He then turned to Harry, still laughing. "I'll be writing home to Mum and Dad to let them know that you refuse to leave the snake's house. I'm sure that they will love to hear about that; that is, of course if Dumbledore hasn't already told them!"

"Oh I'm sure," Harry replied. "Now run along with your little toadies and go save the world like the good little hero that you are."

Michael glared at him then turned and walked away, his friends following after.

"Ignore him," Ron said quietly. He shook his head. "I can't believe the piece of vermin you got stuck with for a brother!" As he said this, his eyes wandered over to where his own brothers were sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione nodded as she sat back down in her seat. Ron reached over and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione?" he asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied softly, her eyes downcast. "I'm just tired, that's all."

_Truthfully, she was. For you see, poor little Hermione was not sleeping well at all. Harry and Ron may have not known it, but Michael's insult was not too far off. _

* * *

The next few weeks carried on quickly. Harry, Ron and Hermione grew accustomed to all of their classes and their teachers. They were able to tell early on what teachers were strict, which ones were more lax and which ones just weren't very good teachers. Harry was quickly fascinated with the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, Professor Quirrell was little more than a joke, stuttering constantly, and seemingly afraid of his own subject. Ron seemed to enjoy Charms, which was thankfully taught by a competent teacher. None of them really liked Potions, though they tried as hard as they could in class, mostly due to the disagreeable nature of the Potions Master, Professor Snape. Thankfully, as he was the head of Slytherin house, they were mostly left alone, something that Harry was especially grateful for, since his father and Snape had a rather bad history.

It had become a silent agreement between the three that they would try their very hardest to do well in classes. Even Ron, who Harry and Hermione heard complain about his classes at least twice a day, seemed determined to do well, as though doing well would somehow prove his worth.

Most of Harry's classmates left him alone, something that he was grateful for. He had Ron and Hermione for friends, and his dormmate Theo was occasionally worth talking to as well. He needn't socialize with everyone. There were more pressing matters to deal with, like getting good grades. His brother's were nowhere near his, if his constant catastrophes in Potions class were any indication.

Hermione especially seemed adamant about doing well. She worked furiously to reach the top of her classes, allowing herself to be second to no one. Perhaps it was just her nature that made her that way, perhaps she genuinely wanted to do well. Or maybe, it was her classmates genuine distrust of her that made her anxious to best them all?

* * *

Sitting in the Great Hall, Harry tried his hardest to concentrate on his homework. It was raining out, the sky above reflecting the dreary weather perfectly. Beside him, Hermione was stifling a yawn as she tucked into a bowl of oatmeal. Across from him, Ron was talking to Theo.

Suddenly an owl swooped down and placed a letter in Ron's lap. He glanced upwards to see Errol staggering in midair in a vain attempt to fly back home.

"Oh no," Ron groaned. "What do they want now?"

"Maybe they are going to try to make you get resorted next," Harry told him. "It's all the rage nowadays."

Ron ignored him and tore open the letter. The look of dread on his face seemingly disappeared and a look of amusement replaced it. By the time Ron finished reading the letter he looked much calmer. "It's from my sister," he said. He handed the letter to Hermione to read.

_Dear Ron,_

_I heard about you getting sorted into Slytherin from Mum. I only have one thing to say to that. HOW DARE YOU! I'm supposed to be the Weasley child to cause trouble and get sorted into Slytherin! Only kidding! I think that Slytherin works for you. As for me, I'm thinking maybe Ravenclaw would be good._

_By the way, did you know that it was the twins who wrote Mum home about you being in Slytherin? I didn't get a good look at the letter, but I know what it was about. It was so spiteful! It looked like they wanted to get you in trouble! I would expect that from Percy, but not them. Percy on the other hand is actually being calm about this. He wrote home last night telling Mum that the twins were being too hard on you. _

_What I don't get is why Percy would try so hard to defend you. You don't think that our dear, older brother is a closet Slytherin do you? I doubt that he would tell us even if he was. By the way, I sent letters to Bill and Charlie about your sorting. I haven't received word from Charlie yet but Bill already wrote back. He said that you being sorted into Slytherin wasn't the end of the world and that the twins were being unreasonable. Finally, someone besides us who see the light I hear you cry. Just kidding again!_

_In all honesty though I'm sure that the twins and Mum will get over you being in Slytherin. And even if they don't you know you will always have me, Bill, and Percy. Maybe Charlie too. Take care._

_Love your sister,_

_Ginny._

"She's right," Ron said. "Percy IS a closet Slytherin. It's where the hat wanted to put him. It told me during my sorting." He laughed bitterly.

Hermione and Harry both looked uncomfortable. Hermione spoke up first. "Well, at least some of your family doesn't mind you getting sorted into Slytherin. Your sister Ginny sounds sweet."

"Yeah," Ron said. "She is." He stood up and grabbed his bag, hoisting it onto his shoulder. "Let's go! We don't want to be late for Potions."

Hermione nodded. "Especially you, Harry."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, but it's fun seeing Snape's reaction for when I am late. I think he's still mad at me for being in his house. It means he can't take points from me like he did with Michael yesterday."

"Which as much as I enjoyed seeing that I thought it was a little unfair," Ron said as they all made their way to Potions class. "I mean come on, who actually knows what the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane is?"

"I do."

"Who asked you, Hermione?"

_The plot thickens. By finding that trapdoor, Harry Potter had unknowingly stumbled onto the first of many adventures that he and his best friends would have during their time at Hogwarts._


	3. Chapter 3

I'm going to explain myself before I get any more reviews complaining about the similarities to canon. The first year, as well as the fourth one, will both be very similar to canon in many ways. The second, third, fifth, sixth and seventh years are going to deviate greatly. If you don't like it, then just don't read it.

* * *

_**Forsaken Destiny **_

_Harry, Ron and Hermione gradually got used to Hogwarts over the next two months. After all, they had a lot to prove. It was important that they do as well as possible in their classes. The three brewed their way through Potions, charmed their way their way through Charms and Transfigured their way through Transfiguration. All three were the top of their year before long. They may not have been able to earn much respect from their classmates, but they definitely had their attention._

_After a particularly nasty troll incident around October, they found themselves especially being the brunt of attention. Unfortunately for them, the situation did nothing but further pull them into the troubling events at the school, making the trapdoor and whatever lay beyond it seem all the more important..._

"What I don't understand..." Hermione began slowly, "...is why you let him receive all the credit. Why did you stop Ron from telling the Professors what had really happened?"

"I don't want anyone to think that I am a potential threat," Harry spoke quietly, his face glowing ominously in the light of the fire.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "Look, it's just...for now I don't want to receive any credit for it. It's best if they think that the little git really knocked out that troll. Less trouble for me."

"Less trouble?" Ron echoed. "Harry, I don't think that twenty points from Slytherin is less trouble."

"Don't you get it Ron?" Harry asked. At the confused look on Ron's face, he explained: "Something is happening here at Hogwarts and it's not good. I mean first Hagrid and the Gringotts break-in, then that horrible dog and now the troll. It's just too suspicious."

"What does that have to do with you, Mate?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "But for now things are too hectic. I don't need either of them becoming suspicious of me."

"Them? Who is _Them_?" Hermione spoke up.

"Professors Quirrell and Snape," Harry answered. Catching sight of her confused look, he elaborated further. "They are up to something and I intend to find out what."

"Professor Quirrell?" Ron said, looking surprised. "Snape I can understand, but what does p-p-pathetic st-t-uttering Professor Quirrell have to do with anything?"

Harry paused for a moment before answering. "He wasn't at the feast tonight. He disappeared and then came back in screaming about the troll. How do we know that he wasn't the one who let it in in the first place?"

Hermione frowned. "That is true," she said. "It _would_ prove to be an excellent distraction. What about Professor Snape though?"

"Well," Harry said calmly, "...when the Professors came into the classroom to check on the troll, I noticed that he was limping slightly. His robes were torn towards the bottom...like something had bitten him, or at the very least tried to bite him."

"The three headed dog!" Hermione gasped, with sudden understanding.

Harry nodded. "My thought's exactly. But whether or not he was trying to keep Quirrell from stealing whatever it was the dog was guarding or was trying to help him steal it remains to be unknown."

_What you have to understand is that under very different circumstances, Harry Potter could of been a Gryffindor. He had many qualifications of a true Gryffindor within him. He was brave, headstrong, determined. So naturally he couldn't help but play hero every now and then, or at least try to..._

* * *

"Mus' admit I wasn't expectin' yeh," Hagrid said as he set four large mugs of tea down at the table. "It is a plea'ant surprise though. I didn expect yeh to accept the invitation Harry."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously as he sat down.

"Yeh're brother never accepted it is all."

Harry felt a flash of anger towards the half-giant at that moment. _'Of course,'_ he thought darkly. '_He wouldn't be able to distinguish the difference between me and my brother either.' _He forced himself to remain calm. Hagrid had given no trouble towards Harry's house, despite the man's dislike for Slytherin, and for that Harry would remain grateful.

Hermione, noticing the dark look on Harry's face, decided to cut in at that moment. "So Hagrid, how have you been?"

"Have they caught the Gringotts robber?" Ron asked bluntly. Hermione frowned at him.

Hagrid shook his head. "No, they haven'," he replied.

"It's a good thing that you were careful to remove whatever it was you had in your safe," Harry chimed in pushing his anger aside. "Hogwarts would be a much better place for whatever you're keeping, wouldn't it Hagrid?"

"Now hold on a second!"

"...and the security you have watching it is really effective..."

"How do yeh know 'bout Fluffy?" Hagrid asked, looking alarmed.

"Fluffy! You named the dog Fluffy!" Ron exclaimed, dropping all pretenses.

Ignoring him, Harry cut in where Hermione had left off. "Look," he began."All we know is that he's guarding something, but we do hope to find out what it is."

"Look it isn't yeh're place to know. What Fluffy's guardin' is between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas Flamel, huh?" Harry said grinning.

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

* * *

"Okay, so we have a name now...Nicholas Flamel."

It was late at night and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the deserted Slytherin common room. Ron and Hermione sat together on a couch near the fire. Harry meanwhile, sat in a straight-backed chair across from them. He was staring intensely at the two of them as he spoke, his emerald orbs reflecting the light from the fire.

"Tell me, does that name sound familiar at all to the two of you?"

Ron and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Not at all Mate," Ron said. "Don't worry, Christmas is in a few weeks. We can stay at the school and search the library then. Since so many students are going home we will have more privacy."

"Wait, you're not going home?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Ron shook his head. "My parents and sister are going to visit Charlie in Romania," he said. "So me and my brothers are staying here." He scowled. "As though I would want to see them anyways. Two weeks of having to endure Fred and George's insults. At least here I don't have to look at them."

"I thought I had it bad with Michael. No offense Ron, but they are acting like a couple of prats" Harry said. Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Not all of them," Ron said. He brightened up suddenly. "Bill and Ginny are really cool about it and Charlie...well Charlie doesn't care one way or the other. He is mostly neutral. Percy has strangely enough been really good about all this. He pulled me aside the other day and told me that if the twins bother me about it again that I could tell him and he would handle it. A bit pompous of him really, but I'm sure that he has good intentions."

Hermione nodded. "That's good," she said. "I'm glad that you have at least him while at Hogwarts." Her head was downcast when she said this.

Ron nodded before scowling again. "But my mother is worried about me," he told them both. "She thinks that something horrible will happen now that I'm in Slytherin." Ron sighed. "Forget about them," he said, nodding towards Harry. "What about Flamel? How do we go about finding out what we need on Flamel?"

"We do exactly as you said," Harry replied. "We wait until everyone leaves for Christmas break. Then I think that a little trip to the library is in order."

Ron nodded his consent. "I thought it would come to that," he told Harry. "Though I can't honestly say that I'm happy about it. With how many books are in the school library, we could be there forever."

**

* * *

**Ron sat in a chair by the fireplace thumbing through books when he became aware of someone watching him. He turned to find Theo standing nearby, an odd look on his face.

"Can I help you?" Ron asked. He knew he was being rude but he didn't care. It was late at night and he was tired after such a long day of searching through books.

Theo didn't answer. Instead he sat down in Harry's usual chair. For a moment there was silence between the two boys. After a minute of this, Ron spoke up first.

"What's going on Theo?" he asked.

Theo paused before answering. "I was thinking..." he began somewhat hesitantly, "Your family doesn't approve of you being in Slytherin, do they?"

Ron shrugged. "Some of them," he said quietly, glancing at the fire briefly. "My mother mainly. Why, what has that got to do with you?"

"I felt that since you were going through all that with your family, you might be able to help me with mine."

Ron blinked. "Your family," he repeated slowly. "What's wrong with your family? Are they against you being in Slytherin or something?"

Theo shook his head. "No," he replied quietly. "No, they are not. My father was a Slytherin when he was in school."

Ron frowned. "Well then, what's the problem?" he asked. Theo wasn't making any sense and it was confusing him.

"Ron, how do you feel about your family?" Theo blurted out after another minute of quiet.

"Huh?" Ron wasn't sure what he had been expecting to hear, but it sure wasn't that.

"I mean, if they never forgive you for being in Slytherin will you be able to get over it?"

Ron shrugged at Theo. He honestly had no idea how to answer that. "Well," he said, pausing to think up the right words to say. "I imagine I would have to. I wouldn't want to...but I'd get over it eventually."

Theo nodded.

"What's wrong, thinking about getting sorted into Gryffindor?" Ron asked teasingly. "Think it might upset your Mum and Dad?"

Theo shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'm not. It's just that my father is very prejudiced against those of lesser blood and I don't want to upset him by telling him that I don't feel the same."

"Well, you're allowed to form your own opinions Theo," Ron said. "You have free will. Your father can't take that away from you."

Theo sighed. "That's what my mother used to say," he mumbled.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Theo mumbled. "I'm going to bed."

_Theo is a interesting one to consider. An ally almost... Except the trio don't have any of those besides each other. Still, he factors into this story too, as they all do in the end... _

* * *

The next day Harry woke up early to find a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He blinked in surprise. He looked up to see Ron still fast asleep in his bed, snoring softly. Grinning, Harry reached over and snatched a pillow off his bed and threw it at Ron. It hit him dead in the face, waking him instantly.

He shot up and then fell out of bed, his sheets tangled around his body. "Harry, whaa..." he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Come on, get up," Harry said with a wide grin. "It's Christmas!"

The two boys tore through their gifts quickly. Harry was surprised by how many things he had been given. He expected Hermione and Ron to give him something, but he had never counted on receiving anything from Theo, even if his present for him was just a bag of sweets.

"Oh look!" Ron said sarcastically, holding up a maroon sweater. "Even when my mother is mad at me she never forgets to send me a Weasley sweater. Isn't that thoughtful of her?" Grimacing slightly, he placed the sweater back in the box and reached for a bag of Chocolate Frogs instead. "At least Ginny had the good sense to send me something useful."

"Useful?" Harry commented, snickering.

"Of course," Ron said, breaking off a piece of chocolate with his teeth. "I can't go to Hogsmeade yet, so I have to make due with whatever candy she sends me."

Shaking his head, Harry went back to his gifts. He didn't expect Michael to give him anything and so was unsurprised to find no gift from him. What he didn't expect was to find a box from his father.

"Go on, open it," Ron encouraged as Harry turned it over in his hands.

"You just want to see what is inside of it."

"...and you don't?"

Harry had to admit, he had a fair point. He opened the lid. Inside, a cloak was folded up carefully, with a note attached. Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"I..." speechless, he pulled the cloak out, letting the note fall to the floor. Turning it over in his hands, he struggled for the right words, but nothing came.

From beside him, Ron looked shocked. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked, wide-eyed. His chocolate lay abandoned on the floor beside him. Harry nodded, still unable to speak. He picked up the note.

_Harry, _

_I know that your mother and I have been very hard on you. We gave you grief over your Sorting, which wasn't very fair of us. The thought of one of our sons being in Slytherin was too difficult to process, what with the snake house's dreadful reputation. If you don't wish to come home for Christmas, I understand. You have every right to be angry at us both._

_I doubt that I will see you until June, so I want you to have this. You know exactly what it is for, so I needn't explain. I want you to keep it close to you whenever possible, but make sure that no one is able to take it from you. I don't know how much things have changed since my time at Hogwarts, but Slytherin was always the most disagreeable of the four houses, especially to non-Purebloods. Be on your guard and keep safe._

_Happy Christmas,_

_James Potter. _

Harry shook his head a bit to clear it. Putting down the note for a moment, he judged the cloak in his hands. Then he threw it over himself.

"You're invisible!" Ron exclaimed, laughing. "Wicked! You need to let me try that sometime."

Harry pulled off the cloak. Stuffing both the gift and the note back into the box, he shoved it under his bed. "That's just his way of saying I'm too weak to last long in Slytherin," he said angrily. Ron's smile vanished. For a moment, the two boys simply sat there on the floor in silence, amidst the pile of gift wrappings and sweets. Averting his gaze from Harry's angry one, Ron reached over and grabbed another Chocolate Frog. Unwrapping it carefully, he glanced at the card disappointedly.

"It's just another Dumbledore card," he grumbled, turning it over. "I've got about fifty of...wait!" His eyes widened excitedly. He handed the card over to Harry to read:

"_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Prof. Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling." _

Harry laughed, suddenly in a good mood. "He is an Alchemist. That's a start! Now we just need to look up books on Alchemy."

Both boys were silent for a moment, letting what they had learned sink in.

"I'm starved," Ron spoke up. He jumped up and began moving towards the staircase "Let's go, it's lunchtime."

Harry laughed again. "You sure you're still hungry with all the sweets you just ate?"

But he didn't get an answer. Ron had already left the room. He sighed and shook his head as he got up and headed after Ron. "Glutton." He started to walk after Ron, fighting to keep himself from smiling. Though he'd never admit it to Ron, it was a really brilliant present his father had given him, one that he planned on taking very good care of.

**

* * *

**The two arrived in the Great Hall to find all the house tables gone and one long table stood in the middle of the hall. All of the teachers where sitting at it as well as the students who had chosen to stay for the holidays. Among those were Theo...and unfortunately the Weasley's.

Harry and Ron sat down across from Theo and as far away from the twins as possible. Percy kept glancing over at them and then at the twins, his expression most disapproving, though no one paid him any heed. Harry struck up a conversation with Theo while Ron shoveled food into his mouth with as much grace as a hedgehog.

"So Theo, having a good Christmas?" Harry asked, helping himself to some steak.

Theo shrugged. "It's much better than last year," he admitted. "I had to go visit my dad's family in Romania."

"That sounds like fun though," Harry commented. "I didn't know you were from Romania."

Theo shook his head. "I'm not. My dad's cousin and her family used to live here. They moved there years ago. She and her husband work with dragons."

"So does Ron's brother," Harry said. "That's where his parents went this Christmas. Thats why he and his brothers stayed here."

"How come you stayed here then?" Theo asked, suddenly suspicious. "Did you stay to keep him company or something?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just didn't feel like going home," he answered.

Theo noted Harry's sour expression when he said this, his gray eyes scrutinizing Harry's closely. "You don't like him all that much, do you?"

"What?"

"Your brother."

"I hate him."

Having been caught off guard, Harry didn't acknowledge what he was saying until it was to late to change it. Theo was now staring at him with a mixture of understanding and interest. Harry's face paled. "I mean, I don't...I didn't mean that," he finished lamely, looking embarrassed.

"No, it's okay Harry," Theo cut in. "I understand perfectly. I mean just because he's your brother doesn't mean you have to love him. I don't love my father."

But somehow hearing Theo say this only made Harry feel worse.

Later on when everyone else in the dormitory was asleep, Harry slid out of bed. He couldn't sleep and figured that going to take a walk might take his mind off things. He threw his father's cloak over his head, before making his way down to the common room and out into the hallway beyond it.

As he walked he thought over in his head what Theo had said. Theo was right, he didn't have to love his brother. Anyone who could truly see past the hero-facade wouldn't. Not with as disagreeable a nature as Michael had. But to openly hate him?

_'Now calm down,' _Harry told himself. _'It's not that you hate him. You just dislike him is all.' _

Feeling much cheered up Harry decided he had walked enough. He was just about to head back to his common room when he heard two very familiar voices in a classroom up ahead. He walked up to the closed door and leaned his ear against it. He knew it was pure foolishness but he couldn't help but be curious.

"Have you found out how to get passed that ridiculous pet monster of Hagrid's?" he heard one voice that he recognized as Snape say.

"I-I d-d-don't k-know-" the other voice began. _Professor Quirrell. _

"You don't want me as your enemy," Harry heard Snape say. "I think it's time to decide where your loyalties lie."

Harry immediately tore his ear away from the door and scrambled backwards. He knew the conversation was done and was more than content to leave before Snape and Quirrell caught him. He may have been a Slytherin but he was still a Potter and that was a good enough excuse for Snape to loath Harry without Harry giving him additional reasons to.

Harry ran down the corridor and out of sight. He was going to have to talk to Hermione when she got back. Hopefully they would be able to solve the mystery before either Snape or Quirrell found out how to get past the dog.

* * *

The next day was surprisingly warm and clear. Harry and Ron decided to take advantage of it by taking a walk on the grounds. As the two walked along, Harry filled Ron in on everything that had happened the night before.

"So, do you think that Quirrell knows how to get past the dog?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know," Harry answered. "I didn't get the chance to hear the whole conversation."

"What are the chances that you would overhear them?" Ron said, shaking his head. "I mean the castle is not exactly a small place."

"With an invisibility cloak you can get away with a lot." Harry told him.

"What were you doing out so late anyways?" Ron asked curiously, coming to a stop near the lake.

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to go into it, but as long as he was already being truthful, he figured he might as well. "I was thinking about my brother."

An uncomfortable silence followed these words. Ron shifted uncomfortably. "You shouldn't worry so much about him," he told Harry. He was staring out across the grounds as he spoke, his eyes refusing to meet Harry's own. "You let him get to you too much. It worries me just how much and I know that it worries Hermione."

"I know," Harry said. "But sometimes it's hard to let the past slide."

"Well you've got to try mate," Ron said, turning to meet Harry's gaze. "Me and Hermione are here for you. You know you will always have us by your side."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know." Then he stopped. "Hey, did you just give me some practical advice? I thought that was Hermione's job?"

Ron laughed. "Well Hermione's not here, so I get the honor of doing it."

"When is it my turn then?" Harry asked him.

"When you catch me actually doing something as thick as worrying about what my brothers think of me, that's when," Ron told him, grinning.

* * *

Harry lay awake that night, once again unable to sleep. He was too busy mulling over what Ron had said. He wanted Harry to stop worrying about his brother, but how could Harry stop thinking about him so easily? He had spent ten years of his life being compared to his twin. It wasn't as though Michael ever made things fair between them.

_'He is an attention hog, a show-off and a bully,'_ Harry thought furiously, his temper rising. _'He was horrible to Hermione when she has done nothing to him.' _

Still, Harry couldn't say he didn't know that he was in the wrong as well. While Michael may have been impossible to get along with, he never made things easy for his mother. His father however...

Harry sighed, Throwing his sheets off of himself, he climbed out of bed, being careful not to wake up either Ron or Theo. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out the invisibility cloak along with the note. Casting the box aside, he read through the note once more. He stared absentmindedly at the cloak for a moment, a scowl on his face. He then made up his mind. Opening up his trunk, he pulled out a bottle of ink, a quill and a spare piece of parchment.

_Dear Dad,_

_Thank you for the gift. I'm not mad at you, or at Mother for that matter, at least not anymore. I hope you had a good Christmas._

_Your son,_

_Harry_

Harry read through the letter twice before deciding that it was good enough, his lips curved upwards into a smile. It made him feel better and he didn't know why. Part of him WAS still angry about the letter and the failed attempt at a resorting that followed it. Another part of him was confused. He never imagined that his father would pass on his old cloak to either one of his sons, much less to Harry. It made him feel good to know that at the very least, his father still cared enough about Harry to give him his cloak.

He closed the hangings around his bed. Putting the note aside, he pulled the cloak close to him. He would send the note home with one of the school owls the next morning.

Within minutes Harry was fast asleep, his hands still clutching the cloak, all thoughts of his brother out of his mind.

* * *

The day that Hermione came back was the exact opposite of that day. The wind outside was blowing fiercely; snow pounding against the windows with such intensity that Harry felt sure they were going to break. Hermione, however, dissuaded the idea.

"They're bewitched," she said as the three of them settled themselves down at a table in the library. "They're magically strengthened to withstand even the most horrid of storms. So what have we got?"

Harry and Ron showed her the card. She stared at it carefully for a moment, her brows furrowed in concentration. Then she visibly brightened.

"THAT'S IT," she cried excitedly. Both Ron and Harry jumped. From her desk at the front the librarian glowered darkly at Hermione.

Hermione payed the three of them no attention. "The Sorcerer's Stone," she said happily. "I read about it in a book."

"Gee, how surprising," Ron said sarcastically. Hermione ignored him. "It's supposed to grant the user immortality. No wonder they both want it."

Ron and Harry were both grinning by this time.

"It makes perfect sense," he said. "I mean Hagrid said that this was between Dumbledore and Flamel. And we know that they were partners. So surely Dumbledore would know about the stone."

Hermione nodded beaming. "So in essence either Snape or Quirrell..."

"Or both," Ron interjected.

"Or both..." Hermione continued. "...knows about the stone and hope to acquire it to gain immortality." She beamed, obviously pleased with her reasoning.

"But why though?" Harry asked. "Why now, when it' being so carefully hidden? It's a little risky, don't you think?"

Hermione shrugged. "No idea," she said.

"Maybe they were You-Know-Who's followers during the war," said Ron thoughtfully. "...and they hope to restore him back to full power."

It was Harry's turn to shrug. "It's a possibility," he said.

"So where do we go from here?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you," Harry answered. "We keep an enormously close watch on both Snape and Quirrell. Keep both eyes open for anything or anyone suspicious."

"And..." he continued, after seeing Ron's and Hermione's nods of consent. "We might have to make another trip down to Hagrid's. Make sure that Fluffy is sure to keep an intruder at bay."

* * *

Around evening Harry decided that he had enough of the common room. He got up from his spot on the sofa and headed towards the door, passing by Hermione who was curled up in an armchair reading, and Theo and Ron who were bickering over a chess game.

He stepped out of the entranceway and into the hallway beyond it. After hearing the portrait hole close behind him he started off down the hall. He didn't have a destination in mind but he didn't care. Anywhere would do as long as he got some time to think to himself.

Unfortunately, as luck would have it, he ran into someone unexpected and most unwelcoming on his way out of the dungeons.

"Malfoy," he blinked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What are you doing down here?"

Draco Malfoy glared at him. "As though that's any of your business Potter," he snapped. He started to walk away but Harry stepped in front of him, blocking his path to freedom.

"Listen Malfoy," he began. "I know that you don't like me much and that's okay because I don't like you either, but I really think that we aught to clear the air." At Malfoy's look of confusion, he elaborated. "We got off to a bad start the day of the Sorting. Now on the rare occasion that I actually lock eyes with you, I get a dirty look in return. So let's just let it all pass. I've got nothing against you."

"Isn't that kind of you, Potter?" Malfoy snapped. "Unfortunately for you, I beg to differ." He tried to push past Harry again, but Harry would have none of it.

"There's no reason for this," he said quietly. He could feel his temper rising, could feel himself getting angry. But he was going to control himself.

"Look Malfoy," he continued choosing his words very carefully. "I'm not interested in having it out with you. We CAN compromise. We don't have to be friends, but we can at least get along." Silently, Harry added that the last thing in the world he would ever want to do is befriend Draco Malfoy. The boy was way too much like Michael for his liking.

"Why would I want to do that?" Malfoy asked.

"Because you're hardly on good terms with your own house; I felt that it might be best if you at least made amends with some people."

"Isn't that generous of you Potter, trying to make amends with me," Malfoy sneered. "But I don't need you. The only reason I'm not on good terms with my own house is because I refuse to associate myself with Mudbloods!"

"Don't say that word!" Harry snapped. "If that's how you truly feel, then fine, but I don't want to hear it."

For a moment the two stood face to face, glaring at each other. Harry was the first to break the silence. "You know something Malfoy," he said quietly. "This is a waste. I had hoped that perhaps we could come to an understanding, but it looks like I was wrong. You are no different from the rest of your family."

With that said, he turned and stalked off to his common room, having walked enough.

* * *

"We were talkin' 'bout dragons and such before that, and he asked me if I had any magical pets of me own," Hagrid answered. It was a few days later and the trio were settled into chairs at Hagrid's table. Several mugs of tea stood untouched on the table.

"He asked you that?" Hermione questioned. "What did you tell him?"

"Well, I said tha' yes, I had Fluffy," Hagrid answered.

Hermione paled considerably. She opened her mouth and said through a somewhat shaky voice, "and w-what did he have to say to that? Was he interested in Fluffy at all?"

"Well o' course he was interested in Fluffy," Hagrid answered. He sniffed slightly. "Who wouldn' be interested in a three-headed dog?"

"...and you didn't see him at all?" Ron asked. "You have no idea what he looks like."

"He kept his hood up. Most of 'em blokes at the Hogshead do. They're a strange lot, I tell yeh'.

The trio exchanged worried looks. "Hagrid..." Harry began, feeling sick, "...what exactly did you tell him about Fluffy?"

"Oh nuttin' much; he were jus' wonderin' how to control a big dog like tha' an' I told him tha' it's real simple. All yeh havta' do is play him a little bit of music an' he will fall righ' asleep."

This time the looks the trio exchanged were not of worry but of downright horror.

* * *

"That idiot!" Ron exclaimed. "How could he just let that slip?"

Neither Harry nor Hermione had an answer for him. They were on their way back towards the school, the sun setting in the west as they walked together.

"I mean, it's like he doesn't care whether someone steals the stone!"

"Oh Ron," Hermione sighed. "You know as well as we do that that's not true."

"Yeah, I'm sure that Hagrid didn't mean for it to slip," Harry added. He honestly had no idea why he was defending Hagrid. He was just as mad, if not more so than Ron, at what Hagrid had done.

Ron sighed in frustration. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "Still, it would have been better if he hadn't of made that slip up. I mean, it's not like we don't have enough on our hands right now what with the stone..."

Before he could finish his sentence Harry reached out and covered Ron's mouth with his hand. "Be quiet," he hissed. He glanced around. The sun had finished setting. Harry suspected they had just enough time to get back before curfew if they hurried. Already any other people who had been on the grounds when they had first come out to visit Hagrid had vanished, leaving the grounds seemingly deserted.

Ron quickly yanked Harry's hand away. He whirled around so that he was facing Harry and glared heatedly at him. "What the hell?"

"Come on," Harry said, grabbing a hold of Ron's robes and pulling him along. He beckoned Hermione to follow them. "I'll tell you once we get inside," he told Ron, ignoring the redhead's protests.

Ron glared at him again, but nevertheless complied. The three hurried inside. Once they had made it into the Slytherin common room, they choose seats in a far off corner of the room so as not to draw attention to themselves.

"Well," Ron demanded, still looking angry as they sat down. "What in the name of bloody hell was that about?"

"I'll tell you what that was about," Harry answered. "There was someone watching us."

"What?" Ron and Hermione both said together. Hermione got a hold of herself first and asked the question they were both wondering, "Who?"

"Who do you think?" Harry said angrily. "The supreme ruler of the universe."

"Wait, you don't mean Michael do you?"

"That's exactly who I mean," Harry answered. "I know it sounds far-fetched, but someone WAS watching us and he is the perfect candidate."

"But why would your brother want to spy on you for? You don't think he knows that we are up to something do you?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd assume so if he's following us," he answered quietly.

"Are you sure that you saw someone watching us?"

"Didn't see, Ron, I felt."

"You felt?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure that's it was Michael that was watching us?" Hermione questioned, looking doubtful.

He used to play immature little pranks on me when we were little. I'm used to him following me around and trying to scare me."

"What are we going to do?"

"What can we do?" Ron spoke up. "But hold our tongues around him. If that doesn't work, then I'm sure that Harry wouldn't mind us drowning him in the lake.."


End file.
